Old Ghosts
by Brisby Mandalay
Summary: Garrus needs new parts for the forward guns, but when he looks for the Commander, he finds her lamenting the scars Cerberus forgot to give her.


A gentle beeping roused me from the impromptu nap I'd taken on the forward guns dashboard. I'd been out for a while, if the stiffness in my arms and back were any indication. I stretched my shoulders as well as I could in heavy armor, and slowly flexed my mandibles as I yawned, sending my right one into a little spasm of pain. It'd been nearly two weeks since taking a rocket to the face on Omega, and the son-of-a-bitch still ached.

The console flashed _CALIBRATIONS COMPLETE_ at me. I shook off my grogginess and rubbed my face until it stopped throbbing, then skimmed the data. The good news was that I'd be able to install the new guns Shepard wanted. The bad news was that I'd be the one to tell her how much it would cost.

During our little run around the galaxy looking for Saren, Joanna Shepard had been pretty liberal with her credits, what with us getting paid for every menial errand we did for someone, or taking money off dead weapons smugglers, or selling all the old junk piling up in the requisitions office. Now we were reduced to raiding abandoned wall safes and scanning every bit of technology, hoping Cerberus had a bounty for it. The Illusive Man's weekly stipend would cover one or two upgrades for the squad, but raw materials are too expensive, so Joanna spends most of her spare time idly scanning planets for resources and balancing the Normandy's budget.

I was writing up a message to Shepard for her to look at later when I heard the familiar sound of EDI's digital interface materializing behind me.

"We'll be arriving at the Citadel in less than an hour, Officer Vakarian."

"Thanks, EDI." I hated when the AI called me "officer".

I sighed at the long list of machine parts on the monitor in front of me. I began copying them to a data pad, figuring I should bring them to Shepard myself. Most of what I needed would be on the Citadel, better to soften the blow now than have her make a scene in the Wards.

* * *

><p>I took a deep breath and strode into the captain's cabin, focused on my list of requisitions.<p>

"Commander, I've got a few bits and pieces to pick up at the Citadel, I was hoping, since we're going to be there, that we could…" I trailed off. The room was empty and unusually quiet; the radio by the commander's bed wasn't playing its regular techno tune, and the console on Shepard's desk was silently plugging away at a list of numbers. I called out, "Joanna? Uh, Commander?"

"Just in here, Garrus." I peeked around the corner, and there she was, in the bathroom with her head down, elbows locked and hands white-knuckled around the sink's edge. I rushed to the open door.

"Commander, are you alright?" I reached for her, ready to maneuver her into a chair. She brushed my hands away and shook her head. Her face was pale, starkly different from her normal, warm complexion.

She cracked a half-smile at me. "Just felt a little nauseous, don't worry so much."

That smile released some of the tension in my shoulders. "It's my job to worry, Shepard. Somebody has to make sure the Savior of the Citadel is in fighting shape." I offered her my hand, and felt a small jolt of warmth in my head as she placed her hand in mine. I lead her down the stairs to the sofa, placing pillows behind her when she lay down. I gingerly sat on the edge of her bed.

"So," I said, putting my elbows on my knees, "are you ok? You seemed fine when I saw you on the bridge."

She breathed in deeply. "I fell asleep while balancing the check book and had a little bit of a bad dream," she exhaled all at once.

"Just a little one?"

"Ok, a sort of big one." She threw her arm over her face, hiding her bright green eyes. Emerald, I think I heard Kaiden call them once.

"You can't say that and expect me to nod and carry on like nothing's wrong."

"No, but I thought if I don't look at you, you'll go away." She pulled a pillow over her face and I chuckled, thinking about what would happen if the galaxy could see how their hero acts when she's not saving their asses. She tugged the pillow down, and I could see some color had returned to her face. "Why aren't you gone yet?"

"'Cause I'm not leaving until I'm sure you'll be alright. Now what happened?"

"Well, I told you about Akuze, right?" I nodded. "I still get dreams sometimes. Not as often as I used to, but it still shakes me awake."

"So this was about your squad?"

She folded her hands over her stomach, suddenly becoming very stoic. "Yeah. It happens the same way every time. I'm with my squad, running, but we don't seem to be getting anywhere. Then the ground opens up, and a giant set of pincers crush half my team a few meters in front of me. They don't even have time to scream. My feet refuse to move, and I have to watch the rest of the thresher maw claw its way out of the sand, hitting me and making my face split open."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, "I hear the bones in my cheeks and nose breaking, blood gushing everywhere, and then I wake up. I used to rub my scar, help me come back to reality, but…" She traced the small scars along her cheeks, healing, but still slightly glowing from the cybernetics, "Cerberus overlooked that little detail."

I touched my own scars instinctively, reminded what it's like to lose your team. I forget sometimes that Shepard knows that feeling better than anyone.

She sat up. "That's all I really had left of them, y'know? The scar, I mean. It was like the medal I could wear every day, letting everyone who saw me know that a dozen good soldiers died on Akuze, making sure they'll be remembered."

I didn't have much to say. Thoughts of Sidonis and my team's final moments bubbled to the surface of my mind. I wondered if I'd ever feel as comfortable with the memories and scars as Joanna does. I wondered if my scars would ever be anything but a reminder of betrayal.

Shepard suddenly looked at me and smiled, a weary smile but a genuine one that made my thoughts slink away, "I just kinda rambled at you there. I never ramble, I'm sorry. You came here for something, didn't you?"

I glanced at the data pad on her desk. I closed my eyes, shook my head, and stood, offering my commander my hand once again. "We'll be at the Citadel soon. Would you like to get lunch at our usual spot? I haven't been there since you died. It'll be just like old times."


End file.
